Mosaic Broken Hearts
by ournoisyhearts
Summary: Future AU. Between the constant dreariness of the weather and his permanently frizzed curls, Blaine is starting doubt whether going to a college in Portland was his brightest idea. The sudden reappearance of one Sebastian Smythe only complicates matters. Seblaine.
1. Chapter One

**With all of these fantastic recent occurrences in the Seblaine fandom, I decided to try my hand at a multi-chaptered fic. I can't promise anything on updates, but I'll do my best to keep them recent. Please alert/review, and let me know what you think!**

**This is unbeta'ed. Also, my knowledge on the Portland area is limited, so I apologize for any inaccuracies.**

* * *

It's official. Blaine Anderson _hates_ the rain.

As if the fact that he was bestowed with the gift of uncontrollable curly hair wasn't enough, he just had to go and choose a college that was located in one of the wettest cities in the country. It figures, really. He's not exactly sure what he was thinking, except that a full ride to a small liberal arts college in Oregon didn't sound that bad. In hindsight, his mind was obviously being affected by the teenage hormones or something, because Blaine has no clue why anyone would willingly live here.

It's quite unfortunate, this predicament that he's in.

Which is why, within the first week of moving into the dorms at _Lewis & Clark,_ Blaine found himself a quaint little coffeehouse that he could easily frequent. Warm, caffeinated beverages are always a priority, especially if one is suffering through day after day of rain and frizzy hair. It wasn't long before Blaine was seated in _Bean Affair_ nearly every day, sipping his medium drip while glancing over his _English 101_ notes. The staff caught on to his continuous presence rather quickly, and by now, two years later, he's usually greeted with a squealed _Blainey!_ and a steaming cup being pushed across the counter towards him.

This particular Tuesday in November is no different, the bell above the door chiming obnoxiously as he shuffles into the building, tossing his head from side to side to shake off any excess water droplets. He's well aware that the motion causes him to resemble a dog of some sort, but he's sort of beyond caring. A little over one month of living in Portland was more than enough time to teach Blaine that his hair gel was a lost cause, and ever since then, he has grudgingly come to accept the miniature afro that he's forced to sport practically 24/7. His entire body is currently soaked due to his three-block dash from his apartment, the horrid black rain coat he'd been forced into buying during a torrential storm his freshman year heavy and sticking to his middle. With a twist of his lips and a displeased sigh, Blaine makes his way up to the counter, hands already outstretched for his regular drink. As soon as the warm mug is between his palms, he groans happily and lifts his head, offering a relieved smile to the petite girl grinning amusedly over at him from the opposite side of the counter.

"Thanks, Vi," he mumbles, already dragging himself over to the fixings station to fetch his sugar and cream. The barista giggles and trails along after him, her head poking up from behind the espresso machine as she watches him empty a sugar packet into his cup. Violet has been working at _Bean Affair_ ever since Blaine first walked in ages ago, her blinding smile and bubbly personality pretty much dragging him into conversation, seeing as ignoring her is generally futile. Chatting and gossiping are Violet's two favorite pastimes, and since Blaine is a regular, he tends to be the one forced into listening. Today is the same as any day, her waiting until Blaine has taken a generous drink from his cup to begin her rant.

"Blainey! I swear, your coffee addiction's going to get you in trouble. I mean, you're already pretty short," she squeaks, her fingers tapping absently against the counter before her. "Not that short is a bad thing. I mean, look at me. Us midgets are pretty cute."

Blaine rolls his eyes and steps away from the fixings station as another customer clears his throat, leaning his body against the small wall that separates him from Violet. "I'm not a midget," he pipes in.

"Aw, sweetie, you kind of are," her lips tilt up into a sympathetic smile before her eyes widen suddenly and her hand darts out, gripping his forearm. "Oh my god! I almost forgot to tell you. Perfection incarnate totally walked in here yesterday. He was _gorgeous,_ Blainey. There aren't even words."

A faraway look appears in Violet's eyes, which earns a pointed scoff from Blaine. Resting his arm on top of the divider, he drops his chin onto the back of his palm and blinks up at the blonde in front of him. "Perfection incarnate, you say? Do tell."

"Don't mock me!" An exasperated huff leaves the girl's lips as she swats Blaine on the shoulder, her eyes narrowing slightly. "But honestly, he was just so _pretty._ You would die if you saw him. I think his good looks actually caused me to lose a few brain cells."

"You mean the few ones you had left?" Blaine snarks. Cue another whack, this one making him wince minutely. "Quit hitting me!"

"Then quit being such a little bitch!" Coming from anyone else, Blaine might take offense at this, but he knows by now how Violet works. Instead of replying, he flutters his eyelashes in faux-innocence and straightens up from the counter in front of him, turning on his heel to search the room for an empty table. He can hear Violet sputtering indignantly but chooses to ignore her, instead clutching his mug in his hands and taking a seat at one of the far tables by the window. The next few hours seem to be a perfect time to catch up on the reading for his _History of Western Music_ class, so he settles into his chair and digs his textbook out of his messenger bag, dumping it onto the table in front of him along with a tattered notebook and a few pens. Minutes later, he is engrossed in his chapter, pen cap between his teeth and eyelids fluttering as he scans over the pages in front of him. Outside, the street is still being pelted by raindrops, but as awful as studying is, Blaine can't help but be thankful for the short reprieve from the weather.

God knows his hair needs it.

* * *

A couple of hours later finds Blaine scrubbing his palms over his sore eyes, nose wrinkling somewhat as he glares down into the empty coffee mug before him. He blinks once, twice, rapidly, the contact in his right eye shifting uncomfortably as he does so. Pushing his chair back and standing up, he locks his arms behind his back and stretches for a moment before heading towards the bathroom, his right eye watering all the while. As soon as he positions himself in front of the sink, he tips his head forward and removes the clear lens from his eye. Immediately, his vision becomes half-blurred, but the irritation has stopped, so he shrugs and flicks the contact into the trash, despite knowing that he'll regret tossing it out later. With that, he makes his way back out to his table, picking up his empty cup and carrying it to the counter, where Violet is hunched over and flipping through a magazine.

"Can I get another?" The words cause Violet to look up, her brows furrowing as she takes in his red-flushed eye.

"Of course, Blainey. Is the eye bothering you again?" She snatches up the mug and turns to refill it, while Blaine lets out a tiny groan and rests his palms on the counter. As she faces him once more, he gives a short nod of his head, resisting the urge to rub at the aggravated spot.

"Yeah. I don't know why. I think I just need to stop wearing a damn contact so much. Though being half-blind isn't much better," he mumbles, gratefully accepting the fresh cup as Violet passes it over. She frowns ever so slightly and opens her mouth to respond, but freezes abruptly and snaps her mouth shut as her gaze focuses somewhere around the general vicinity of Blaine's shoulder. The startled expression on her face compels Blaine to smother a laugh, his head tilting to the side. "Vi? You okay?"

Shaking her head subtly, her eyes dart back to meet Blaine's before she mouths something that he can't quite make out. Forehead pinching in confusion, he adds, "what is it?"

Her lips form around the words again, this time slow enough that he can comprehend them. _Perfection incarnate._

Struggling to contain the chuckle that threatens to escape him, Blaine arches one eyebrow and then shakes his head, picking up his cup so that he can move out of the way for whomever this god-like being is that is standing behind him. Angling his body away from the counter and stepping off to the side, he allows himself a glance back over his shoulder so that he can at least have an _idea_ of what Violet's supposedly handsome customer looks like.

The sight nearly stops him dead.

A tall, lithe figure. Cat-like eyes. Hair artfully spiked. Clothes so flattering they may as well have been painted on, fitted perfectly.

His eye is most definitely irritating him now.

"Sebastian," is all Blaine manages to grit out, his fingers instantly tightening around the mug in his hands. A sharp ache is developing behind his eyes, but he remains rooted to the spot, his entire being conflicted.

What is Sebastian doing here?

Two fine brows rise partially as that signature smirk curls at the edges of the man's lips.

"Long time no see, Killer."


	2. Chapter Two

**Thank you so much! Between the response I got to the first chapter and the fact that I passed my driver's test today, I'm feeling pretty motivated. Here's chapter two! Please, continue to review. I appreciate all the feedback!**

**Unbeta'ed.**

"What are you doing here?"

Is that his voice that's just spoken, so venomous and full of distaste? Blaine blinks while his lips curl downwards, his gaze dropping to the floor. Less than thirty seconds in Sebastian's presence and he's already reverted into full-on defensive mode.

Sebastian merely cocks his head to one side, hazel eyes twinkling with something that looks a lot like amusement. "I was just getting a coffee, Anderson. No need to get your panties in a twist."

Blaine's frown morphs into an irritated scowl as he takes a small step backwards, still holding his mug against his chest. "You know that's not what I meant."

Following the shorter man's movement with a stride forward, Sebastian's mouth pulls up into a teasing grin, his head inclining another fraction. "Oh, you mean in Portland? I'm just passing through. Have some business to take care of." Turning away from Blaine, he moves up to the counter and flashes Violet his signature mega-watt smile before directing his eyes up to the drink menu behind her head. Violet takes the moment to dart her gaze over towards Blaine, her blue eyes feverish and practically screaming, _you know him?!_

With a sharp shake of his head, Blaine spins on his heel and heads back to his table to gather his things. He needs to get out of here. Right now. Quickly shoving his books and pens back into his messenger bag, he hooks the strap over his shoulder and deposits his forgotten coffee on the table before making a beeline to the front door. Explaining things to Violet will have to come later. He just can't deal with this. Not so soon.

Blaine is nearly home free, his palm splayed across the door and about to push it open when a voice stops him.

"Leaving so soon, Killer? I thought we might...catch up a bit."

Forcing down the urge to turn and spit right into Sebastian's stupid, _smug_ face, Blaine locks his jaw and slowly pivots around, narrowed eyes catching with the other man's. He wants Sebastian to see how angry he is, how terribly unhappy he is at this entire encounter. Blaine curls his arms over his chest and _glares,_ the pain behind his eyes intensifying with each passing second.

"We have nothing to talk about, Sebastian," he hisses, voice hard and unforgiving. The other man's smirk falters for a split second, so brief and almost unnoticeable that Blaine practically misses it. But it's _there._ A flash of insecurity, remorse. Just as quickly as it occurs, it's gone, replaced by an even more self-satisfied smile, Sebastian giving a light shrug of his shoulders.

"Suit yourself."

With that, Blaine is hurtling out the door, his whole body stiff and drowning in emotions he can't quite put a name to.

That was unexpected.

* * *

It's been three days since his run-in with Sebastian and Blaine's eye just _won't stop fucking itching._

His usual eye drops have done nothing but dim the irritation down for a few hours, and he hasn't been able to wear his contact at all. Walking around with only one eye actually able to focus poses a few problems, especially when it comes to depth perception.

But that's a whole other story.

On Friday morning, close to seventy-two hours since the event that knocked Blaine's life upside down, he decides that he can't continue to hide like this. He hasn't had a decent coffee in days and he's pretty sure that he's going through withdrawals. Plus, Violet is probably worried about him. Or something.

With those thoughts in mind, Blaine takes a brief glance out the window of his apartment and then shrugs into his raincoat, grimacing slightly at the thought of trudging through Portland's most recent downpour. His hair is already beginning to puff outwards at the thought. However, he steels himself for the weather and hastily locks up behind himself, tugging his hood up and jogging down the two flights of stairs to exit the building. As soon as he sets foot outside, water whips into his face and sends immediate chills down his spine.

This weather really could turn him into a permanent hermit.

The walk to _Bean Affair_ seems ten times longer than usual, whether it's because of the storm weighing him down or his sudden sense of impending doom, Blaine isn't sure. When he finally stomps in the door, dragging his boots furiously across the ground in a useless attempt to dry them, Violet is already perking up from behind the counter, her eyes growing impossibly wide. Promptly ducking his head, Blaine heads straight for her, already parting his lips to speak.

"Vi—"

"You _know_ him?! Oh my god, Blainey! I can't believe it! How? From where? Were you guys—"

"_No!_" Blaine finally sputters, cutting her off. "He tried, but, well...it's kind of a long story."

Mouth dropping open in disbelief, Violet busies herself for a moment as she goes to fill up a mug for him, returning a minute or so later. "A long story? Oh, Blainey," she lowers her voice, shooting him a smile that is much too innocent. "I have nothing but time."

Blaine grumbles under his breath and reaches for his cup, scooping it up between his palms. "It's not the good kind of story, Violet."

Her expression flattens out instantly, face growing concerned. "Is that why you were so—"

"Yes."

She seems to take in this new tidbit of information thoughtfully, her fingernails absently clicking against the counter. "But it was a long time ago, wasn't it?"

Of course, she can't let it go. _It figures._ "I don't wanna talk about it."

A sigh of exasperation. "But Bla—"

"Some other time, okay?" Decisively putting an end to their conversation, Blaine carries his mug off to his usual table by the window and drops into a chair, lowering his face onto his forearms. This whole situation is the definition of _too much, too soon._ He hasn't thought about Sebastian in—christ, three, almost four years. He should be able to handle it now, but it's just all coming back to him, and Blaine's not sure how much more he can take.

_A giant plastic cup. The sudden surge of worry and **ohshitohshitohshit** that careens through Blaine at a rapid pace, his eyes glued to the literal mess that's about to unfold before him. He hardly even has time to think before his body propels forward, lunging in front of Kurt and the rest of the New Directions. _

_Cold. It's so fucking cold. Collapsing onto the pavement, his hands scrabble uselessly at his soaked face. It stings, and it burns, and god, it hurts. He can't even open his eyes—the stickiness of it, the utter humiliation. But there's more to it this time—he's pretty sure it shouldn't ache so badly. Something is so obviously wrong. Why can't he see?_

The abrupt reappearance of Sebastian has to be related to the constant twinges of pain in his bad eye. It's the only explanation, and Blaine could really do without them. Memories of the incident also lead up to memories of Kurt, which aren't exactly welcome, either. It's like a domino effect—one thing leading to another, and then another. Honestly, he thought he was past this. Why is it all resurfacing now?

As if in answer to his question, the bell above the front door chimes as another customer walks into the shop. _It's not him,_ Blaine tells himself, clutching his coffee mug desperately between his fingers. _Don't turn around. There's no way it's him._

"Well, if this isn't a lovely surprise," Sebastian's voice is so fucking _satisfied_ as his lean body slides into the chair across from Blaine. Keeping his eyes glued to the drink in front of him, Blaine clenches his jaw and fights back the urge to snarl out a response. Unfortunately for him, Sebastian just continues to _sit there,_ that ridiculous smirk on his face and his holier-than-thou attitude practically reeking off of him. It's horrible and awkward, and it just needs to _end._ Blaine refuses to break the silence, though, too dead set on ignoring the other man to the best of his ability.

That doesn't stop Sebastian from filling the void a few minutes later, spouting off without a care as to whether Blaine is listening or not.

"You look good, Killer. I'll admit, the whole lack-of-hair-gel thing nearly had me doing a double take. I like the curls, though. Much looser. You don't look like such an uptight priss anymore."

_He wants you to respond. Don't give in,_ Blaine's mind chants, his knuckles almost white from they are clenched around the handle of his mug. Sebastian lifts a brow and follows his gaze down to the cup, a huff of laughter escaping his lips.

"Something wrong with the coffee, Anderson? As interesting as that staring match you're having with it seems to be, I was kind of trying to start a conversation here."

"I'm not going to talk to you," Blaine blurts, instantly cursing himself as a smug grin spreads across Sebastian's face.

"Is that right? Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure you just did."

"Just...fuck off, Sebastian," he mumbles finally, letting his hands fall dejectedly into his lap. Taking advantage of his defenseless moment, Sebastian leans across the table slightly, his voice low.

"Not going to happen," he says coolly, hazel eyes scanning over Blaine's features. The other man simply clears his throat, his gaze darting around and trying to focus on anything _but_ Sebastian. This proves to be nearly impossible, because between the questioning look from the man across from him and Violet's rampant facial expressions, there's not much else for Blaine to look at.

Finally steeling himself and lifting his head, he curls his hands into fists where they are located against his sides and wipes his face into a blank mask, murmuring, "I'm serious, Smythe. I don't want to talk to you."

"But you _do,_ Blaine. Don't lie to yourself." Sebastian's voice is hardly louder than a whisper, his body bowing further over the table. "I'm not expecting a pleasant conversation. Hell, I was sort of hoping you'd yell at me or _something._ I know you want to. And I deserve it, don't I?"

These words make Blaine pause. What is Sebastian angling at here? It's not an apology—far from it, if the slightly teasing look on his face is anything to go by—but it's not a cruel jab, either. Blaine's not sure if Sebastian is truly even regretful for what he did. But he is...here. Only god knows why, but...maybe this is Sebastian Smythe's way of making amends. If he even makes amends at all.

"I'm not going to yell at you," Blaine says at last, hands uncurling across his thighs. Sebastian's playfulness falls away at that, his lips spreading up into that agitating smirk once more.

"I have to say, I'm a bit disappointed," he drawls, pushing his seat back from the table and standing up. Blaine's eyebrows furrow in confusion as he tracks the man's movements, Sebastian stepping towards him and bending down. Blaine tenses rapidly as warm breath fans out over his ear, causing him to squeeze his eyes shut. "I bet you look super hot when you're angry."

Blinking his eyes open, Blaine fails to stutter out a response, and Sebastian just tosses him a wink before turning on his heel and starting his way towards the door. He lifts his hand in a short wave and shoots Blaine one last look over his shoulder. "I'll see you around, Anderson."


	3. Chapter Three

**My emotions are still all over the place from Thursday's episode, and I can't even get them together long enough to write something in reaction to the events. Instead, I wrote this, so enjoy! And please, please, review if you can. I really do appreciate them.**

* * *

Saturday has Blaine reverted back to his hermit status, his eye so swollen and watery that he can hardly see. He figures it's about time to get to the doctor, but they're closed on weekends, which means he's screwed until Monday. Goddamn Sebastian. What right does he have, just showing up out of nowhere like this? Blaine had been perfectly fine before his arrival. Happy, even. Sure, he may have been living an incredibly boring existence, but boring is good. It's safe.

That night, he's curled up on the old sofa and watching _Friends_ re-runs when the buzzer sounds from outside. Furrowing his brows in confusion, he tucks the blanket that lies over his shoulders closer around himself and heads to the intercom to buzz the person in. He's not sure who it could be at this hour; only a handful of people know his address, most of those people because office employees at the university. After hitting the button to allow his visitor upstairs, he heads into the kitchen and rummages around for something to drink, finally settling on a half-empty bottle of Gatorade that's situated in the very back of his refrigerator. He shrugs and takes a long swig, just as a hard knock rattles through his front door. Setting the bottle down on the counter, he goes to open it, removing the deadbolt and cracking it open so that he can pop his head through.

"Violet? What are you doing here?"

"You look like shit," she responds, pushing her body up against the door and forcing Blaine to open it wider so that she can walk in. He shakes his head and shuts the door behind them before following her back to the couch.

"Wow, thanks. That didn't exactly answer my question," he mutters sarcastically, dropping down beside her and pulling his knees up in front of himself.

"The truth hurts, sweetie," she tosses him a short, beaming smile before falling into seriousness, her forehead wrinkling as she turns to face him. "Are you okay, Blaine?"

Blaine opens his mouth to respond with a quick _I'm fine,_ but stops himself. He's never seen Violet so focused and honest about something before, and it's a bit confusing. He's pretty sure that his behavior isn't anything to warrant worry about—but then again, Vi always has been freakishly perceptive. Maybe she's picking up on something that he isn't unaware of. Exhaling a long breath, he finally settles on a question in return. "Did I do something to make you think that I wasn't?"

Violet's mouth twists in sympathy as she reaches up to pat his cheek lightly. "Oh, Blainey. It's that boy, isn't it?"

"His name is Sebastian," he mumbles, the words slipping out before he can think. Afterwards, he frowns and looks down at his lap, smoothing his palms over his kneecaps. "And no, it's not about him."

"What did he do?" She asks softly, her blue eyes wide with something akin to concern. This causes Blaine to fight back a deprecating laugh, because, really? The question should be about what Sebastian _didn't_ do. The list would take much too long.

"There was just...some crap back in high school. We got past it, though." But as Blaine thinks back to the last few days and his encounters with the other man, he realizes he's not so sure. Just the sight of Sebastian had sent Blaine into an infuriated panic. Is it possible that he's not as over everything as he thought?

"Blaine, honey," Violet says quietly, scooting over so that she can rest her dainty hand on his arm. "You can tell yourself that, but it's obvious _you're_ not past it."

"I—" He begins, his voice dying off as he fails to come up with an excuse. Rubbing his hand over his bad eye, he winces when it comes away slick with moisture. "It's a long story, Vi."

She follows his gaze down to his hand, her face pinching up as she looks back up at his face. "Shit, Blainey, when did your eye get so bad?"

_The second Sebastian fucking Smythe had to waltz back into my life,_ he wants to scream, but instead decides on, "I dunno. A few days ago. I'll be fine."

This earns an exasperated huff from Violet. "Blaine Anderson, you are _not_ fine. I don't know what you're keeping bottled up in there, or what that boy did to you, but you can't let it ruin you like this! You were content until he showed up at the shop on Tuesday. And now you won't even leave your apartment!" Her chest heaves as she pauses mid-rant, body visibly deflating. "I'm your friend, Blainey. I just want to help."

_Friend._ He hasn't had too many of those since he left high school. It's...sort of nice to hear, actually. And when he glances up at Violet, her features anxious and uneasy, he knows that he has to tell her.

"Sebastian, he transferred to Dalton after I'd left..."

* * *

The living room is quiet a long while later, Blaine having finished his spiel and Violet curled into the opposite corner of the sofa, absorbing everything he had just told her. Meanwhile, Blaine's trying to figure out if he missed anything. _Tried to steal me away from my boyfriend._ Check. _Blackmailed the New Directions._ Check. _Threw a slushie in my face and partially blinded me in one eye. _Check. _Still expected me to return to Dalton._ Check. Looking back on it, it's hard to stomach just how _much_ Sebastian has truly done. How many people he's hurt. Blaine should have yelled at him in the coffee shop; the man more than deserved it. But for some reason he hadn't, and that's the worst part of this entire mess. He doesn't even know _why_.

"He's a bastard," Violet declares, breaking the silence that had settled upon them. Blaine lifts his head, startled out of his thoughts. A wry smile pulls at his lips.

"Understatement," he agrees, resting his head against the back of the couch. Staring up at the ceiling, he adds, "...a hot one though, right?"

This produces a shocked giggle from Violet. "I suppose. Although, it's hard to remember how handsome he is when I'm so pissed at him on your behalf."

"Thanks, but...there's really no reason to be. It's over with. Hopefully he'll just disappear again and I can forget this ever happened."

Seemingly struck by a thought, Violet straightens up and eyes him suspiciously. "Do you think his reappearance is the reason your eye's acting up?"

"Is that even possible?"

"I don't know. I've heard of mental trauma or whatever causing that sort of thing before. Memories are powerful stuff."

Blaine shrugs. "It makes sense. The more I stress over it, the worse the irritation gets."

Pursing her lips, Violet crosses her arms over his chest. "Can I kick his ass?"

"As much as I'd appreciate that...no. He's not worth it, Vi."

Violet sighs in disappointment before crawling across the couch, her body settling against his and her head dropping onto his shoulder. Blaine lifts his arm and curls it around her, pulling her in closer so that she's tucked into his side. After a long moment of stillness, he can hear her murmur, "no, but you are."

* * *

On Monday after his classes, Blaine heads to the doctor to see if they can do anything about his eye. All he gets is a new eye-drop prescription and the advice to avoid touching it, as if that'll help any. It's not pink eye or anything.

When he finally shuffles into _Bean Affair_ in the late afternoon, Violet is behind the counter, her face lighting up when she spots him. Blaine raises his hand in a short wave before heading towards her, his usual drink placed into his grasp within seconds. She props her chin up on her fist and watches him dump the fixings into his cup, as per routine, before speaking.

"It's weird not seeing you in here every day," she comments. Arching a brow, Blaine tilts his head.

"Aw, Vi, you miss me? Cute."

Laughing and reaching over to whack him on the shoulder, she continues, "He hasn't been back, you know. There's no need to avoid coming in anymore."

Blaine's mouth automatically curves downward at the implied mention of Sebastian, his hands cupping his drink gingerly as he lifts it to his mouth. "I'm not avoiding anything."

Shooting him a pointed look, Violet rolls her eyes and turns away to head back to the cash register as the front door chimes. Blaine rolls his shoulders absently and is about to make his way to his seat when a voice stops him.

"You drink so much coffee, I'm surprised it hasn't permanently stunted your growth." When Blaine turns around, Sebastian has both eyebrows raised, his arms folded across his chest. He practically oozes confidence, and Blaine _really_ just wants to punch him in the face.

He has self-control, though, so he refrains.

"Maybe I enjoy being short," he huffs, glancing self-consciously down at the cup in his hands. The rough chuckle this evokes from Sebastian causes Blaine to peer upwards again, his brows furrowed. "What's so funny?"

"You," Sebastian replies simply, starting into motion and making his way over to stand in front of Blaine. This means Blaine has to crane his neck back in order to meet the other man's gaze, and _wow,_ he'd forgotten how tall Sebastian really was. Either that, or Blaine really had gotten shorter.

"I didn't do anything," he mutters. Sebastian shakes his head, his head tipping to one side.

"Uh-huh," he agrees, noncommittally. "So, are we past the whole silent-fuming, pissy-attitude step in our relationship, or should I continue to watch my back?"

Blaine scowls despite himself, earning an amused smirk from Sebastian. The urge to punch him in the face is heightening. "I wasn't aware we were developing a relationship."

"Well, I gotta make up for things somehow, right?" At that, Sebastian's fingers are abruptly right in front of him, pads brushing fleetingly over the skin beneath Blaine's swollen eye. The touch immediately causes Blaine to duck his head as he sucks in a sharp breath, any previous thought flying out the window. His anger dissipates out of nowhere, and he's not sure why, but he finds his voice softening.

"It's gonna take a lot to make up for everything you did," he murmurs, still avoiding the other man's gaze. Long fingers drop from his eye and settle for wrapping lightly around Blaine's wrist, where they squeeze gently.

"I know."

Lifting his head, Blaine acknowledges the words with a tight smile. He's not even sure what he's doing, or what Sebastian's motives are, but he's always been the forgiving type...and he figures even someone like Sebastian Smythe deserves a chance. A miniscule one, but it's already more than most people in his position would allow.

Sebastian's hand falls down to his own pocket, where he digs around until he pulls out a cell phone. "I need your number before I can start with this whole making-things-better business. Unless you'd rather I just stalk this coffee shop until I can find you," he teases, holding the phone out in question.

Blaine bites down on his bottom lip, staring down at the device before hesitantly reaching for it and passing his cup over to Sebastian to hold as he carefully enters in his number. He can feel eyes on him the entire time and wills his fingers not to tremble as he presses each button, typing in his name and hitting save. Once he's done, he hands the phone back to Sebastian, who returns his drink with a small smile. And it really _is_ a smile, not his usual smug upturn of lips. This one is almost sheepish, but pleasant, his long fingers stroking over the top of his phone as he seems to struggle to find something to say.

"I'll call you. Or text you, whatever," he states.

Blaine can't help the doubtful look that crosses his face, his nose wrinkling. "I won't get my hopes up, but...sure."

"No, no...I promise, Killer. Soon enough your inbox is going to be full of my fantastic messages." Sebastian grins smarmily, causing Blaine to roll his eyes before he takes a long sip of his coffee.

"Alright," he responds, after a minute of quiet observation. "I'll talk to you later, then?"

With a nod, Sebastian inclines his head. "You can count on it."


	4. Chapter Four

**I'm sorry this update took awhile! The last few weeks I spent finishing up the semester with finals and stuff, so now I have awhile to update this thing! Leave feedback if you'd like, I really do appreciate it.**

* * *

Blaine is dozing pleasantly, dreams of rainbows and happiness flitting through this mind, until they are rudely interrupted by the sound of his phone chiming from his bedside.

Maybe they weren't quite dreams of rainbows and happiness, but it's still an irritating way to be woken up on a Saturday morning. Blaine moans into his pillow and flails unseeingly until he feels the device against his palm, tilting his head to peer at the too-bright screen.

_Rise and shine, Killer._

He can practically hear Sebastian's stupid, smug voice as he reads the words, dropping his head back onto his pillow with a curse. The time on his phone reads _10:04_, which truly isn't that early, but it is Saturday, and Blaine is a hardworking college student, dammit.

He fumbles to type out a short reply.

_I hate you._

Sebastian had made it his personal mission to converse with Blaine via text message at least once daily, holding fast to the promise made at the coffee shop last weekend. All of their interactions up until now have been rather inane, talk of classes and playful jibes at one another, but it's...nice. Nice in the sense that Blaine's eye has finally decided to cooperate, the irritation dimming somewhat, and Blaine knows it's thanks to he and Sebastian being civil towards each other. They haven't been face-to-face since exchanging phone numbers, but that doesn't change the fact that something has shifted between them, or at least in their opinions of one another, particularly Blaine's.

_Now, now. You'll grow to love me._

_Doubtful._

_My charms are irresistible, Anderson, and you know it._

_What charms?_

Blaine snorts as he fires off his reply before sitting up in bed and rubbing blearily at his good eye, the covers falling to pool around his waist. Now that he's obviously awake, there's no chance of Sebastian leaving him alone, so he figures he might as well get up. Climbing off the bed and snatching up his phone to carry with him, he stumbles out to the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee.

_Someone's feisty this morning._

Leaning against the counter to wait for the liquid to finish brewing, Blaine taps out a response to Sebastian and then runs his fingers through his untamed curls.

_Possibly because I was woken up at 10 on a Saturday._

_The day is a-wasting! I'm doing you a favor._

_You know, if you want us to actually be friends, you should really re-think your tactics._

_Am I coming on too strong? Oh, darn. It seemed to be working, though._

With a roll of his eyes, Blaine picks up his steaming mug and heads over to the couch, where he tucks his legs up beneath him and presses his face against the armrest, phone clutched in his free hand.

_Don't be so sure. I am always willing to accept bribes._

_What about sexual favors?_

Blaine nearly chokes on his coffee as he reads the latest message before typing furiously.

_NO._

_Too bad._

Before he can even fathom how to reply to that, another text arrives.

_So, are you awake yet? I've got big plans for us today, Killer, and I sort of need you conscious for them._

Blinking down at the screen, Blaine's brows furrow as he ponders what "plans" Sebastian could possibly have for the two of them. He resigns himself to the fact that even if he declined, the other man would drag him along anyway, so he hesitantly agrees.

_Of course I'm awake, no thanks to you. What sort of plans?_

_I already told you. Big ones. I'm coming to get you, so be ready at 11._

Blaine glances again at the time on his phone. _10:26._ Letting out an exasperated sigh, he straightens from his slouch on the sofa and stands up, shuffling towards the bathroom to get ready.

Stupid Sebastian.

* * *

When the buzzer sounds at eleven o'clock on the dot, Blaine can't keep back the amused smile that spreads across his face. Of course, Sebastian Smythe wouldn't be anything but punctual. Hitting the button to let Sebastian up, Blaine shoves his phone into his pocket and is just slipping into his jacket as a knock sounds from the door. Pulling it open reveals the other man in all his pride and glory, signature smirk on his face and hair peppered with water droplets. His hands are tucked into the pockets of a black coat that stops around mid-thigh, and his jeans are dark and artfully worn around the knees. He looks...well, sort of flawless, and Blaine immediately feels inadequate in his old converse and his dorky rain jacket.

"Hi," he says weakly, stepping out into the hallway with his hand firmly gripping the doorknob behind him. Sebastian arches a single brow and slides his hands from his pockets, reaching out to flick something off of Blaine's shoulder.

"Your eye seems better," he comments absently as Blaine swallows thickly and turns to lock up his apartment. He's not quite sure how to act around Sebastian now. They're...well, friends? But seeing the man in person leaves Blaine feeling a bit as if he's floundering, questioning everything he does. The casualness that Sebastian emits, with the fleeting touch and nonchalant tone of his voice, only serves to confuse Blaine further.

He's seriously over-thinking this.

Instead of acknowledging Sebastian's observation, Blaine turns back to face him and wills his voice not to shake as he asks, "so, do I get to know what these 'big plans' are or what?"

Sebastian's mouth curls up into an almost secretive smile as he shakes his head, allowing Blaine to lead the way down the hall. "Impatient, I see."

"I don't like surprises," Blaine mumbles. Which, in reality, is one of the biggest lies that's ever left his mouth. _You fucking love surprises and you know it,_ his mind unhelpfully supplies as the two of them reach the bottom of the stairwell and exit the building. Sebastian glances over from his side and tilts his head as if to say, _right, I don't believe you _before starting his way down the sidewalk, strides long enough that Blaine has to quicken his steps in order to keep up.

"So, I have to ask: why Portland?" Sebastian asks after a few moments of silence. Blaine stares off aimlessly at the street in front of them, clearing his throat.

"I just...wanted a change, I guess." _Somewhere the complete opposite of Ohio. _

"A change," Sebastian echoes, fingers playing with the edge of his coat sleeve. "I guess I can understand that. I just never pictured you somewhere like this, you know?"

Smiling a bit ruefully, Blaine shrugs his shoulders. "Yeah, well...I changed, I suppose. It only seemed fit that my surroundings change, too."

Simply nodding his head, Sebastian drops the subject and the previous silence returns, but it's not as uncomfortable as the last one. His curiosity suddenly reignited, Blaine blurts, "I could ask you the same thing, though. Why are _you _here? You said you had 'business' to take care of?"

A noncommittal hum. Lifting his eyes to dart a glance up at the overcast sky, Sebastian says slowly, "my sister lives here. I'm just visiting her for awhile."

The vague statement leaves Blaine brimming to the edge with questions, like _what for? _And _why now?_ The most pressing, to his surprise, is _for how long?_ He doesn't voice any of them, though, and lets the subject dissipate just as Sebastian had done for him. The two wander down the street without anymore conversation after that, and Blaine again finds himself doubting things. Friends should be able to...find something to talk about, at least for longer than five minutes.

Luckily for him, Sebastian's steps finally slow as they approach their destination and Blaine's thoughts are replaced by those of eagerness, his eyes scanning the line of shops in front of them.

"What are we—"

Sebastian cuts him off with a pointed look and a quirk of his lips as he makes his way towards an open doorway. "It's not anything crazy. I just thought we could...hang out. I don't know."

Blaine falters mid-step at that, his stomach twisting in a way that's not entirely unpleasant. For all his anxiety and concern, Blaine realizes that Sebastian really does want to do this _friends_ thing. It's a strange thought; in all honesty, he wasn't sure Sebastian had it in him to be genuinely friendly with...anyone.

Blaine's happy to admit that he's been proven wrong.

Sebastian shoots him one last smile, this one much more unsure. In return, Blaine's nerves seemingly disappear as he grins back, pushing the other man into the shop with a light nudge to his shoulder.

"Get on with it, then. I'm dying to learn more about your 'big plans.'"

Sebastian lets out a soft chuckle that warms Blaine from the inside out as they make their way into the store, stopping in the entryway to take a look around. It's nothing more than a standard music shop, rows of CD's lining the room in front of them. The sight causes Blaine to raise his eyebrows and turn towards Sebastian.

"Really?"

The other man shrugs his shoulders, offering a sheepish look. "This is only the first stop, don't worry."

The laugh that escapes Blaine at that is low and amused. "No, no...it's fine. Not quite what I was expecting, that's all."

They spend the next half hour browsing through the aisles, giving each other small smiles over the CD racks every now and then. At one point, after Blaine has been aimlessly wandering down the country music section for no real reason, he notices that Sebastian has come to a stop over in the pop section next to one of the demo stations, a pair of chunky headphones situated over his ears. Meanwhile, he has a CD case in his hands and is scanning the track list on the back while his head bobs absently to the tune of whatever he is listening to. The sight is...raw, almost vulnerable. For a split second, Blaine is glimpsing a side of Sebastian that, until today, he didn't even know existed. The thought creates a funny sensation in his chest as he turns over the idea in his mind. A week ago, and he was still completely sure of his pure hatred towards this man, but now, after a few days of text messages and an hour spent in a record shop, Blaine's already having to reevaluate what he thinks.

It leaves him confused, mostly.

Making his way towards Sebastian's side, Blaine attempts to peer over his shoulder at the disc in his hand, but Sebastian notices his presence almost immediately and his hand drops to his side, tucking the case against his leg. Blaine huffs and tilts his head, trying to make a grab for the case, and the two of them end up in a scuffle as Sebastian waves his hand about to keep the CD away all while he remains tethered to the demo station by the headphone chord. They must look absolutely ridiculous, he thinks, but Sebastian is laughing nervously and trying to keep a straight face and his cheeks are nearly _pink,_ and it's sort of worth the weird glances the other customers are giving them.

"Whatcha listening to?" Blaine asks innocently as Sebastian tugs the headphones down from his ears.

The other man simply narrows his eyes and shuffles a bit in place, mumbling, "nothing."

"Uh-huh," is Blaine's disbelieving reply, still trying to catch a glimpse of the CD Sebastian clutches in his palm. "You really don't need to be embarrassed. I was a Katy Perry fanatic in high school, remember?"

Shaking his head, Sebastian blows out a long sigh before removing the headphones from around his neck and placing them over Blaine's ears, deliberately avoiding the shorter man's gaze. Blaine instantly focuses on the music that's blaring from the speakers, his nose wrinkling slightly as he attempts to decipher the song.

"_Taylor Swift?_ This is in the pop section now?" Blaine realizes finally. Sebastian's eyes drop to the ground as he scratches at the back of his neck self-consciously.

"Just...don't ask, okay?" His voice is slightly pleading, fingers clenching and unclenching around the disc in his hand before he sets it on the stand. Blaine snorts and takes off the headphones, hanging them back up while trying to stifle the grin that threatens to split across his face.

"Okay, okay, it's just...Taylor Swift! I didn't peg you for the type..."

Sebastian elbows him playfully in the side, his lips pursed as he grumbles, "shut up."

Blaine laughs loudly and elbows the man right back, his eyes wide. "I am never going to let you live this down, Sebastian Smythe. I hope you know that."

Instead of responding, Sebastian shakes his head and mutters something unintelligible under his breath. The grin on Blaine's face refuses to shrink as he continues his ruthless teasing, the two of them making their way out of the shop. Revenge is only fair, he thinks.


	5. Chapter Five

**Wow, hello, four months later. I am so sorry. I don't even know if people will still read this, but I promise the next chapter won't take so long?**

* * *

"You really do drink a lot of coffee."

"So I've been told," Blaine answers idly, mouth curving upwards from behind the mug in his hands. Across from him, Sebastian simply shakes his head and lets out a quiet laugh, his own fingers picking absently at the muffin in front of him.

After they'd left the music shop, Sebastian had spent the better part of the afternoon dragging Blaine around downtown Portland, insisting on scoping out the aisles of _Powell's Books _and then proceeding to wander through the Lan Su Chinese Garden for the brief half hour that the rain let up. Blaine realized early on that it was best not to protest, and eventually even found himself having a good time, his cheeks aching from smiling so much and the burning sensation in his eye having all but diminished. Sebastian is surprisingly good company—he's funny, and he never seems to run out of energy, which Blaine strangely appreciates. His outgoing side is one Blaine never got to see back in high school, and it's interesting now, to witness the underlying humor and carefree attitude that Sebastian contains.

By the time the rain had become too prominent to ignore, the two of them had made their way into the small street corner café where they are currently seated, Blaine eagerly paying for a warm cup of coffee while Sebastian looked on in amusement. They had then taken their current seats at a table by the window, falling into a not so uncomfortable silence as Sebastian chewed his food thoughtfully and Blaine inhaled the aroma of his drink. It's remained that way for the past twenty minutes, Blaine watching absently as the raindrops pelt against the glass and slide downwards, streaking the window in water. As much as he complains about the negative effects of the rain on his appearance, a part of him revels in the serenity that it brings. It might be just a tiny part of the reason why he ended up in Portland in the first place.

"What're you thinking about?" Sebastian asks after awhile.

Blaine returns his attention to the man across from him, his shoulders lifting in a shrug. "Nothing, really."

Lifting a brow, Sebastian tips his head to the side and responds, "it doesn't seem like nothing."

"Alright, you caught me. I was thinking about how nice your company is when you _aren't _talking for once," he shoots back.

Sebastian has the decency to look offended for a moment, but his mouth slowly begins to curl up at the corners as he shakes his head. "Rude."

Blaine just grins. "I prefer the term 'painfully honest.'"

"I didn't know you had so much sass in there, Anderson," Sebastian says, to which Blaine finally sets down his coffee mug and leans forward, folding his arms and resting them gently on the table.

"I guess I'm just full of surprises."

Sebastian pops another chunk of his muffin into his mouth and chews for a long moment, his gaze taking on a pensive quality that leaves Blaine feeling unsettled. Finally, he murmurs, "that you are."

The conversation dies out after that, and Blaine swallows the rest of his drink quickly just to give himself something to do. This back-and-forth with Sebastian has gotten to be slightly exhausting, and he doesn't quite know what to make of it. One second he's irrationally angry at the other man, and then they are laughing like old friends, or like now, hovering in an awkward lull that Blaine can't pull them out of. He wishes he could just push away the doubt, allow himself to open up completely to this mature, _newer _version of Sebastian, but the anxiety still niggles at the back of his mind and restrains him. His burning eye is a constant reminder of all that's happened between them, and Blaine can't just let all that go after a matter of a few hours.

Or can he?

Neither of them speaks as they exit the shop. Sebastian's hands are tucked into the pockets of his coat, and Blaine is staring down at his sneaker-clad feet as they scuff along the pavement. The few blocks back to Blaine's apartment are spent in this way. When they arrive at the entrance to his building, drenched to the bone and shivering, Sebastian stops him just in front of the door with a hand to his arm. His hair is flattened to his head from the rain, a couple of strands hanging loosely over his forehead, and Blaine's eyes track the movement of a single water droplet as it snakes its way down the side of Sebastian's neck and beneath his collar. Shaking himself out of the distraction a few seconds later, he lifts his head and meets Sebastian's eyes, which are searching his own in the most perplexing manner.

Cupping Blaine's elbow gently, Sebastian mutters, "thanks. For today."

The underlying meaning is obvious. _Thanks for giving me a chance,_ he is saying, and Blaine has suddenly lost the ability to speak, because the sincerity behind Sebastian's gaze really hits him. He opens his mouth halfway, struggling to form words.

"Of course," he says weakly, ducking his head and peering off to the side. "It was...I had a good time."

He doesn't look up, but can feel when Sebastian squeezes his arm softly and then drops his hand. "Good," he replies quietly. "Maybe we can do it again before I leave town?"

The mention of Sebastian's departure has Blaine glancing upward at last and nodding slowly, his lips curling up into a hesitant smile. "I'll call you this time?"

Pushing the wet hair out of his eyes, Sebastian's face brightens remarkably as he grins down at Blaine in return and takes a step back. "I'll be anxiously waiting," he responds, raising his hand in a mock-salute before he turns away and heads down the steps. "Later, Killer."

* * *

"You look better," Violet calls out upon his arrival the next morning, her lips pursed together in a knowing expression. Blaine merely scratches at the side of his head and shrugs, accepting his mug and resting his hip against the counter.

"I suppose I feel better," he replies, exhaling a stream of cool hair over the surface of his coffee and peering across at Violet, who has both eyebrows raised impossibly high. Blaine squints as if to say, _what?_ and she simply shakes her head before going back to her task of stacking empty milk containers.

"You agreed to go out with him, then?" she asks, and Blaine rolls his eyes.

"We didn't _go out_, Vi. We did spend the afternoon together as sort-of friends, though, yes."

Violet hums noncommittally, and Blaine decides to ignore her and instead heads over to add cream and sugar to his coffee. He is just picking up a stir stick when Violet's blonde head pops up from behind the counter again, her chin resting on the glass divider between them.

"So, what was he like?"

"What is this, twenty questions?" Blaine retorts.

Violet wrinkles her nose and laughs. "Yes? C'mon, Blainey, I'm curious."

"Well, he was...nice. For Sebastian, anyway," Blaine offers weakly.

"You have to give me a little more than that," Violet demands.

Blaine sighs. "He seems sorry. I really think he's trying to make up for what happened, you know? I just...I don't know if I can forgive and forget that easily."

Violet is quiet for a long moment as she ponders his statement, and Blaine glances absently about the room. The _Bean Affair _is calmer than usual for a Sunday morning, but that might be because Blaine has wandered in early, having been unable to sleep fitfully for most of the night. His thoughts had been swirling around Sebastian and their day together, what it all meant.

Soon after Sebastian had left that afternoon, Blaine's mind had returned to second-guessing, the uncertainty creeping up on him and leaving him utterly confused. Sebastian _had_ seemed remorseful, like he really did want to fix things, and yet Blaine continues to balance preciously on the edge between forgiveness and hurt, as if the burning of ice and rock salt is still a present sensation in his eye.

It's complicated. So complicated that he'd almost rather not deal with it, but he knows that he can't live in this gray area forever, especially not when Sebastian is trying to make amends.

"He isn't asking you to forgive and forget, Blaine," Violet murmurs a few seconds later, and Blaine looks up at the soft sound of her voice, taking in the sad smile on her face. "I think he just wants you to forgive. The forgetting, well, that part's up to you."

Blaine blinks and allows the words to sink in, remaining silent for awhile before answering, "you always know what to say."

Violet instantly reverts back to her bubbly self, tossing her ponytail to one side and shooting him a wink. "It's in the job description. Barista with therapeutic efforts on the side."

Chuckling, Blaine picks up his mug and inclines his head in a grateful nod. "Well, thanks, Vi. I appreciate the words of wisdom."

She gives him a small wave as he makes his way to his usual table and drops into the wooden chair, placing his cup down in front of him and fishing his phone out of his pocket. The device suddenly feels heavy between his palms, and Blaine bites down on his bottom lip as he slowly composes a new text message and selects the name _Sebastian Smythe_ in the "send to" menu.

_Were you aware that they've been training coffee shop employees in psychology as well?_

The reply arrives seconds later.

_Maybe the caffeine enhances their intelligence levels. I don't know what can be said about you, though._

Blaine's eyes scan across the screen, and then he is snorting into his coffee mug and carefully tapping out a response, ignoring Violet's gaze on him.

_Please, I'm pretty sure I have an IQ somewhere up at inhuman genius levels._

His foot bounces aimlessly against the ground as he awaits the next message, and Blaine glances down to check the time on his phone. _7:04._ He doesn't know exactly why Sebastian is awake as early as he is, but he finds himself surprisingly grateful.

_You know it isn't good to lie to yourself, Blaine._

Blaine types, _I think you should take your own advice._

"Blainey, your face is red," Violet supplies helpfully, and Blaine looks up through narrowed eyes.

"Shut up," he mumbles.

The blonde girl smiles innocently back at him and flutters her eyelashes. "Just making a casual observation. Who're you texting?"

"No one."

"Is it a guy about, oh, this tall, perfect hair, gorgeous eyes, kind of douchey attitude?"

Blaine groans. "Vi, leave me alone."

"I'm just looking out for your wellbeing," she chirps, and Blaine levels her with another glare before returning his attention to his phone, Violet's laugh echoing quietly behind him.


End file.
